


Always With You

by hips_of_steel



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Early 1920s, Historical Hetalia, M/M, Post WW1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-08-28 16:18:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8453218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hips_of_steel/pseuds/hips_of_steel
Summary: In 1921, Gilbert Beilschmidt, a veteran of the Great War, finds himself struggling to care for his younger brother Ludwig in the post war crash. With family savings gone and no chance in the job market, he and many others are struggling to make it through.Luckily, the city of Berlin can offer a new source of income to those desperate to put food on the table.Americans.And when the choice is death or dignity, dignity is the first to die.A historical Hetalia fiction.





	1. Chapter 1

Gilbert Beilschmidt was hungry.

It wasn't like the hunger he had felt during the war, one that made him wish his rations were larger, or less likely to be eaten by rats. Even then, he had been able to eat enough to find blissful sleep at night, or at least as blissful as sleep in the trenches could be. The hunger during the war had been to simply live a day without gunshots echoing over the land, a day without mud seeping into his boots, or a day without the smell of blood and death filling his nose every time he inhaled until he could no longer distinguish it from the smells of the living.

This was a different hunger, one that ate away at what little fat was left on his body, one that left him stealing scraps from anyone more fortunate or caught off guard. It was a hunger that stole rational reason from his mind, and ate at the fragments of humanity he had left in his soul.

He knew he was lucky compared to some. He had had some family savings at the end of the war, a small apartment he owned rather than renting, and for a while, he even held a job after the war delivering aid shipments to different areas of Berlin. But after the Treaty of Versailles was signed, he lost that job, and inflation made sure that whatever money he had earned combined with what was left in the family savings or whatever he found on the street was barely enough to buy food for his younger brother to eat, let alone pay for coal to heat their apartment, gas for their stove, or even candles for meager light when night arrived.

He had once had a job working on car engines before the war, hearing the perfect purrs they made when they were running smoothly. He'd had a girlfriend, one he'd been hoping to marry, with a beautiful laugh and a smile that could have melted ice. He'd imagined their children, a couple of boys, rowdy like he and his brothers had been when they were young, and at least one girl, as beautiful and as fierce as her mother.

Yet another thing the war had stolen from him. When he returned, there was no happy reunion. Just a letter announcing she had gotten married and wished him well.

With no job and no hopes, he no longer spent his nights in his bed back at the apartment, but rather in the streets. A full night's sleep was a luxury he might allow himself once a week. The streets of Berlin, if you were smart, could provide a second income for anyone as unlucky as he was.

Americans.

Any shreds of dignity he'd had left at the end of the war had disappeared when he returned home to find his mother and father dead of the flu, his nine year old brother depending on him for everything. Even as the world came crashing down around them, Gilbert knew he couldn't go a week without eating, or live on the streets. He had someone to care for, to live for even. And his baby brother was his top priority.

He wasn't the only one who had given up his dignity for family or for himself. There was something human to the struggle to survive, and it drew plenty of men and women to the streets to engage in the world's oldest profession. Despite having been working as a whore for six months, he was still relatively new in this area of Berlin, and his strange appearance meant it was a struggle to get a possible customer to take him seriously.

But he had to keep trying. A single American dollar was a full night of pleasure. Fifty cents guaranteed penetration and intercourse, and a quarter could get you pretty good service for an hour or two that would probably lead to oral sex.

In the hands of those who earned it, an American dollar meant a new winter coat to fight the chill of winter on the streets of Berlin, or enough food to feed a family of four for a week. Gilbert could buy food, and even cover the costs of coal and gas to cook that food and keep his brother warm during the worst nights Berlin had to give them.

This was what hope had become in the poorest districts of Berlin.

An American dollar.

He pulled out a cigarette as he watched Emma flirt with two brunette women. Emma's English was so heavily accented that even Gilbert couldn't understand it, but the way the women were smiling, and how one held Emma's arm was all the message they needed to cross the language barrier. Emma finally took off with the women, headed somewhere, and fast.

Gilbert was about to move to another corner that might get more passerby when a male voice spoke.

"I'd think a man as beautiful as you wouldn't still be out on a corner this late at night."

Gilbert turned to see the man who had spoken. He was taller than Gilbert, and probably the same age, although maybe a touch younger. He had short golden hair and turquoise eyes. Gilbert gazed at him for a moment, wondering if this could be a night where he brought home enough money to buy himself a week of meals.

"All depends on your definition of beauty. White hair and red eyes doesn't tend to be very high on the lists of most people in this area." Gilbert replied, exhaling those words with the smoke on his breath.

The American almost had a heart attack at those words. "You speak English?!"

Gilbert nodded. "Yeah, pretty well if I say so myself." As he said that, he ground his cigarette out on the wall behind him. If this was going where he had to hope it was going, he wasn't going to have much more time to smoke. He slipped the half used cigarette back into the carton while the American watched him. "Know Berlin as well as anyone else who grew up here."

"Well then, why don't you tell me where the best hotel rooms in the area are?"

Gilbert glanced at him again before responding. "That depends. How much are you willing to pay?"

They both knew, of course, that he wasn't referring to the cost of the room. The American grinned and pulled out two dollars from a pocket in his coat. Gilbert had to hold back the curse that nearly crossed his lips at the sight of so much money. That would be enough for a whole month of food for him and Ludwig.

"All night, right?" The American asked, though he obviously knew the answer given the smile on his face.

Gilbert nodded, and motioned for the American to follow behind him. He lead him to a hotel that frequently took this type of business, and it was clean. It cost a dime for the night, and the America gladly paid it, muttering a swift and accented "danke" to the manager as he took the key.

Gilbert wondered how long he'd have to entertain the American as they walked to their room. If he kept him well into the morning, Ludwig would have to go to school with only a half cup of gruel left over from their dinner last night, and he hoped he could buy him a real meal instead. But he also knew that the wait would be worth if it he got both of those dollars. That would be a month of food for him and Lud. He might even be able to sleep a few more nights and try to gain back some of the weight he had been rapidly losing.

Entering the room, he waited until the door had closed to turn and ask the American a simple question.

"What would you like first?"

Sitting down in a chair, the American paused, looking over him for a moment. "Why don't you put on a little show for me and get rid of those clothes. Make it... entertaining."

Gilbert instantly caught onto the challenge in those words. The American could easily slip away without paying him the whole two dollars he'd been promised and find someone more willing to play these games with him. If Gilbert wanted both those dollars, he had to earn them.

Luckily, Gilbert had dealt with a few men like this before, and he doubted their demands were any worse than the one currently before him.

He started by unbuttoning his shirt, keeping his red irises locked with those blue gems the American possessed. He'd learned how to put on this act. He kept his eyes half closed, smirking at the man with a look that could have made the devil blush. Once each button was undone, he slid the shirt off, turning as he did to reveal the scars on his back, bright pink ridges of flesh that stood out against the bright white of his skin. There was a soft noise of surprise from the American behind him, and he smiled to himself. Let the man know he wasn't inexperienced when it came to pain. After all, some of his customers in the past had rather enjoyed inflicting it on him.

He turned around to meet those blue eyes once more and saw that the American had a faint pink dusting across his cheeks.

 _He must be pretty new to this... Better for me_... He thought to himself, finally allowing the shirt to drop to the floor with a soft thump. He set a hand on his hip and stuck it out at an angle that almost seemed to state _Hey, I know I'm sexy_. The American's face went scarlet at that, and Gilbert had to hold back a chuckle. He walked over and set his hand under the American's chin, lifting up his head until their eyes met.

"I hate to guess, but from the tints on your cheeks, I'd say you're new at this, and it's much more fun to _play together_ than it is to _play alone_."

The American shoved him back, and then those eyes flashed with a sudden malevolence. "I don't think you're ready yet." He said, grabbing at Gil's crotch.

Gil tried not to turn red himself at the unexpected touch. The American could tell his body was reacting to the situation, but they both knew it wasn't very genuine. With a smug smile, the American pulled back, seemingly having proven his point.

 _Perhaps he isn't as new as I think he is... I need to do better then_...

Kicking off his boots and socks, Gil undid his belt and let his pants drop, rubbing the bulge through his shorts until it became much larger while the American watched him, keeping his face hidden from view.Gilbert kept silent for a while until he let a few small gasps escape, knowing that usually excited his patrons.

Sure enough, the American suddenly stood and walked towards the albino. Gilbert reached up and wrapped his arms around the taller man. There was a moment where they simply looked at each other, and then their lips crashed together, the American using his height and weight to shove him onto the bed. The jacket the man was wearing was quickly thrown to the side, and hands moved over Gilbert's exposed body, exploring every inch they could find. Gilbert didn't keep his hands still either, allowing himself an opportunity to explore. The man was heavy, but he was built almost entirely out of muscle. He only had a thin layer of fat right over his stomach, similar to the one that Gil himself had had before the war. As bodies pressed together, Gil slipped a hand down into the American's shorts and meeting the hard bulging organ that awaited him. The man suddenly pulled away from Gilbert, leaning back and undoing his own belt.

Gilbert took the invitation before it was even voiced, dropping to his knees and taking the American into his mouth as far as he could.

As he felt large hands bury themselves into his hair, Gilbert knew this was going to be a very long night.

***

After only a few hours of sleep, Gil felt the arms around his waist move, and the weight on the bed shifted. He opened his eyes to watch his American patron closely as he got dressed. He had no desire to be cheated out of his due, especially when his entire body ached from getting slammed into the mattress when the American had thrusted into him.

The American turned and saw the albino's ruby red eyes locked onto his. "The money is in the nightstand. Two dollars. You earned it."

Gilbert checked the drawer swiftly, his eyes locked onto the American until he had confirmed that the money was actually there. Then he turned away from the man, examining the room to try and determine where exactly all his clothes were. The first rays of sunlight were coming through the curtains as he spotted his shorts and pants and grabbed them, yanking them on as fast as he could.

The smell of smoke distracted him, and he turned to see the American was watching him dress while inhaling from a large cigar, already completely dressed himself. Gilbert ignored the gaze, turning back to his clothes. He was a whore, and he'd just been paid double for last night. If his patron felt like gawking, then he damn well could.

He was tightening his belt when the man spoke.

"You know, I could use a guide around the city, a translator to help me out, make sure I see all the sights, all those things."

Gilbert paused before replying. The American knew if he offered the right amount, he would practically own Gilbert's soul. "I have a little brother I have to care for..."

"Do you have a job to support him with?" The American asked, and Gilbert had to shake his head. Both could tell that _this_ was his job. There was a scoffing noise as he shook his head. "Look, you need money, and I need a translator."

Gilbert whirled. "You don't own me!" He snarled, outraged by the American's implication that he was that desperate for money, even though he definitely was.

The American looked down at Gilbert's torso, and Gilbert knew what he saw. Ribs jutting out, showing that he ate only what was necessary to survive and keep himself halfway appealing to his patrons. He whirled once more, yanking his shirt off the floor and buttoning it fast to hide the obvious physical characteristics of his situation.

"Alright, here's my offer. A dollar a day for translation, a dollar a night for services as asked. That's two dollars a day, and I spend another two weeks in Berlin. That should be enough to keep you going once I'm gone. You might even get a real job and stay off the streets." He said, although both of them knew that as soon as he was gone’ Gilbert would go right back to whoring himself out. There was more profit to it.

The offer was tantalizing, and the American knew he couldn't resist it. Now the question was how long Gilbert could pretend to ignore the offer.

He felt his composure slip, and his shoulders slump. He refused to look at the man while he answered.

"I'll do it then. But before anything else today, I need to go to my house and buy food for my brother. He's only twelve."

"Of course." Came the reply, smooth and calm from a man who had been anything but only a few hours earlier.

As soon as Gilbert had finished getting dressed, they stepped outside, and walked to a hotel which many tourists stayed out, the American settling down at a table outside the cafe portion. "Go buy your brother breakfast. I'll wait here."

Gilbert nodded before rushing away.

 

Ludwig was just about to pick his bags and leave for school when his brother came rushing into the apartment with a bag full of food. He smiled at the sight.

"You've got another translating job?!"

That bag meant an American benefactor, a dollar in his brother's pocket, food in their stomachs, and coal in their stove.

Gilbert nodded, and called out. "Just a second, West, and I'll make you a sandwich for lunch today."

Ludwig watched the groceries cover the counter. There was a loaf of bread, fresh and still warm in a way that made Ludwig's stomach almost twirl in delight. A round of cheese, potatoes, and a dozen small wurst. Gilbert set to work, swiftly assembling a sandwich, cheese on bread and half of a wurst cut and set in the middle. He hurriedly set it in Ludwig's lunch tin, and then handed it to him. "Now you can go to school. This job should last for two weeks, and I won't be home until late tonight, possibly tomorrow morning, but I promise to be home then. I'll make you a dish of potatoes for dinner, and you'll just have to bake it when you get home. Sound good?"

Ludwig nodded and hugged his brother tightly, and East ruffled his hair before placing a small kiss on his forehead. "Now, go out and make me proud of my brilliant little brother, okay?"

Ludwig nodded as he grabbed his book bag and headed out of the house towards school. Gil was getting translator jobs on and off, and whenever he did, it meant food. He tore the sandwich in half once he was out of sight from the house, swiftly eating the half before anyone else saw it. He hoped Gil would have something to eat before he left as well. He knew why his brother had begun to look gaunt lately. Gil would rather fast for three or four days in a row then let Ludwig miss a single meal.

 

Gilbert swiftly assembled a small potato dish, cutting up a potato, and frying it swiftly with the other half of the wurst he had put in Lud's sandwich. Once that was done, he tucked it safely into a cupboard and slipped back outside.

As he returned to the restaurant outside of the hotel, he spotted a young woman sitting across from his American patron, and felt his blood run cold at the sight. Was she another person like him, looking for an American to save her and her family from starvation?

He would have kept himself at a distance as he tried to decide whether or not this woman was a threat to his new source of income, except the American saw him. He grinned and called him over. "Ah, please join us."

Gilbert approached slowly and warily. The American had clearly slipped inside and changed his clothes, now wearing a stylish and smart looking suit that showed off his wealth. The woman next to him turned and spoke. "You must be the translator Alfred hired. He didn't tell me your name."

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, ma'am." Gilbert said, nodding to the woman. Her voice had revealed her as an American, and her outfit was of a similar state to his benefactor's, stylish and giving a well off look to her. She had long blond curls pulled back into a loose bun, and a smile on her face that was actually rather pretty.

"Ah, Gilbert. A wonderful name. A shame my younger brother never bothered to ask for it."

Her coy tone made Gilbert realize she knew exactly what he was. A whore with the advantage of speaking their language. The American man shrugged, and the woman pulled a cigarette from her pocket before speaking. "My name is Madeline Bonnefoy. Alfred is my younger half brother. He came here for business _and_ pleasure. I just took the ride along."

The man, Alfred, snorted. "You came with me because you could claim I was chaperoning you while you spend the whole time enjoying pleasure on your husband's wallet."

She laughed, and Gilbert wished he could disappear into the background, although he almost was invisible to the two siblings. She lit her cigarette, and after taking a long inhale, she smiled. "Don't act like a saint, Alfred. You and I were cut from the same cloth, and we both have our vices. Mine just happens to still be asleep, though I must say, yours is much more... Unusual in appearance." She took another inhale on her cigarette and stood. "I will probably see you later tonight, Alfred. Or not."

Once she was gone, disappearing back into the hotel, Alfred turned towards him. "I apologize for my half sister. She takes after her father more than our mother."

Gilbert shrugged, pretending the words hadn't irritated him as much as they had. He was a whore. He didn't need apologies. "So, your name is Alfred?"

"Yes, Alfred F. Jones. I apologize for not telling you last night."

The unnecessary apology grated on Gilbert once again. "Didn't need to know your name then, but it doesn't matter."

Alfred ignored his angry voice in favor of asking a question. "Have you had breakfast?"

Gilbert was startled by this question, and the American saw his surprise, quickly signaling a waitress and ordering by pointing at the menu, and then Gilbert.

 _If I'm his translator, maybe he should let me chose the meal I eat_. Gilbert thought, holding his tongue as he saw that the menu was clearly written completely in German.

"Please, enjoy the meal. My treat." He responded as the waitress disappeared towards the kitchens.

A few minutes later, she returned with a huge plate of food. Two eggs, a wurst, a large pancake, and a raspberry jam tart. A meal fit for kings rather than their whores.

“I can't accept this much food-” Gilbert began, trying to remember a time when he had even had this much food. But the American cut him off with a slight glare, a commanding tone obvious in his voice.

“Eat it. We both know you didn't get that slim figure by choice.”

Gilbert slowly lifted fork and knife and began to eat, and soon Alfred was watching him with a strange fascination in his eyes. Gilbert tried to ignore the feeling and just enjoy his breakfast.

Eating was a slow process. He hadn't been able to even see this much food on his table in a long time. Once he had finished the pancake and the eggs, he began on the wurst, and then went to take a bite of the tart.

He had forgotten the taste of jam, and almost spit the sweet treat back out, but he managed to swallow it.

There was a sudden laugh, and he looked up at Alfred in confusion as he spoke. “Do you not like it? You were making an _interesting_ face.”

He had almost forgotten that the American was watching him eat, a cigar still hanging out of his mouth. Gilbert shook his head. “No. I just… haven't had something this sweet to eat in a very long time. The taste startled me.”

The American chuckled at that. “Well, enjoy it. I plan on leaving you better off than you were.”

Gilbert didn't respond, uncomfortable with the way the American seemed to be claiming him. But if it kept him and his brother fed for as long as this man's money lasted? Who was he to complain?


	2. Chapter 2

The days fell into a swift pattern. He woke up in the morning in Alfred's hotel room, got dressed in clean clothes, went to the apartment and got Ludwig up, dressed, and fed. Then he would head back to the hotel and meet Alfred outside at the restaurant. They would eat breakfast together, and then go out and do business in the city. Gilbert had been surprised to discover that Alfred actually had some legitimate business reasons to be here.

Alfred had nodded when he asked about it over lunch one afternoon. “My father runs a major company in the US. I won't tell you which one, but suffice to say, we're looking to expand into new markets here in Europe, and he sent me to scout Berlin.”

“Wouldn't your company have hired you a translator then?”

Alfred snorted. “The man couldn't translate worth shit. You're a much better translator.”

After lunch, they would stroll the city. Alfred asked about other areas of Germany, and Gilbert gave him a vague overview of the country.

“But have you ever seen Bavaria?” Alfred asked one day.

“No. it's not like the soldier trains took us there for recreation-” He cut himself off suddenly.

Alfred paused in confusion, and Gilbert groaned. “I shouldn't have said that.”

“I guessed you were a soldier in the war. You're not hiding anything from me.” Alfred said. “I saw the Iron Cross the first night we met.”

“Yeah, old family medal. Passed down on my dad's side of the family.”

A soft noise of interest rose from the American.

“Did you fight in the war?” Gilbert asked, trying to distract from his own service record.

“No. My father sought a deferment for me. Only son, going to school, all that yada yada.”

A nod as they walked through the streets, swiftly dropping their previous subject.

After playing tourist, they would have dinner, and then either more business or they would go and watch a show. Gilbert was amazed when they went to watch an orchestra and Alfred took him along.

He sat next to the American, listening to the symphonies of his countrymen. Beethoven, Wagner, and others. He let it wash over him like a flood, the same way his American benefactor was.

As night came to a close, they would make their way back to the hotel, and repeat the pattern again in the morning.

But today, about five days into his benefactor’s visit, he needed to go shopping for food for his brother. He had left Alfred a note to that effect, and as soon as Ludwig was out the door, he went to his bedroom.

There was a small box he kept hidden among the floorboards. He pulled it up, setting the two new dollar bills inside and fishing out the change he had received the last time he had went shopping. He stood, tucking it into his jacket pocket, and then hid the box out of sight once more.

He walked down to the small store, glad the morning rush had already gone. The man looked up at him with a slight smile. “Ah, Gilbert Beilschmidt. I was starting to wonder when you might show up here again.”

Gilbert didn't smile back at the man. “I got a translating job. Working my ass off.” He muttered as the man began packing his usual order in brown paper. He looked around and added a small piece of peppermint candy to the order. He would need it in a few minutes.

The man chuckled when he saw Gilbert add that. “So we'll be taking the usual discount today?”

Gilbert didn't smile, simply glancing around as he nodded. No one else was in the shop. No one needed to see him.

The little door keeping customers away from behind the counter was pulled open, and he ducked back, hiding himself as he tucked himself underneath the desk area.

The man barely made a noise as Gilbert did what he had to do. When he had stumbled in here six months ago, the man had told him he could pay this way or watch his brother starve.

He almost sighed in relief when the man finished and he was able to swallow the semen, wiping at his face. It was here in this shop, on his knees in front of this man, that he had realized what he would have to do to save his younger brother from a life in the streets.

The man snorted as he pulled away and stood up, walking back around the counter and paying a discounted price for the groceries. “Such a shame to waste that pretty mouth on the men who caused us to be in such a state. If the Americans hadn't entered the war, we never would have lost it.”

Gilbert snatched the peppermint candy out of the sack, popping it into his mouth as he walked towards the door of the shop. He usually ignored these jabs at himself.

But today the man said something inexcusable.

“So when are you going to make that boy start earning his keep?”

Gilbert froze, and then turned slowly, glaring at the man. “I'll let him eat my flesh off my very bones before I let you even come near him. You or any other man.”

As he dashed out of the shop, he heard the man laughing behind him. He tried to ignore the words that simply kept repeating in his head.

But he was afraid. Very afraid indeed. He was keenly aware he could be killed any day due to the danger in his current employment. And where would that leave Ludwig?

He could see where it left him every night in his nightmares.

_Ludwig, half dead on a corner, a young boy offering up the only thing he had left to offer._

_Himself._

Gilbert gritted his teeth in anger, and made it back inside his building. He left the food in the apartment, making sure to hide it and lock the door on his way out.

Then he headed back to the hotel.

Alfred and Madeline sat there sipping coffee with a tall woman who practically hung off Madeline's arm the entire time they had been here. She was half Dutch, and her name was Sterre. Gilbert had seen her on the street a few times, but she had found some part time employ with a theater group.

She never spoke when he was around, but from what he heard from Madeline when she gossiped to her brother, Sterre had the most beautiful singing voice out of anyone she had ever met.

He joined the table, and Alfred waved the waitress over. Gilbert gave his order, and she hurried off to go fetch it.

Alfred started to say something, but Gilbert just glanced down at his hands, glad that the peppermint candy had already dissolved long before he got here.

He ate his breakfast in silence between Alfred and Sterre, and the Dutch woman looked at him with her head tilted slightly in confusion.

When Madeline stood and said it was time for them to leave, Sterre set a hand on his arm.

 _“We are doing what we must for our families. Stay strong.”_ She said, her German coming out with an accent. He was surprised, but then nodded.

“Danke.”

She turned and followed after Madeline, leaving him alone with his half finished breakfast and Alfred.

Alfred looked at him for a while before speaking.

“I'm not going to ask who, but when I'm paying you, I don't expect you to go picking up side jobs.”

Gilbert looked up in surprise to see the American’s gaze cutting into him. He sighed, realizing that he hadn't done a good job of hiding what he had done.

“I don't have a choice. It's a regular thing with this person.”

Alfred stiffened slightly, an angry note rising in his voice. “And what does he offer you?”

Gilbert spoke softly. “Discounted groceries. Free when I don't have anything as long as I give him enough… reasons.”

The rage suddenly disappeared from Alfred, replaced by something else he didn't want to identify. Gilbert picked at his eggs for a few moments before taking another bite.

There came a long sigh from the American. “Alright. I suppose I can't fight you on that since you have someone else to care for.”

Gilbert didn't met Alfred’s gaze for a while, trying to avoid slumping over in exhaustion. His American benefactor sighed.

“I'll reschedule this morning’s meeting for this afternoon. Go up to the room and get some sleep.”

Gilbert tried to argue, but a glare from Alfred cut him off. He nodded, and swiftly finishing his breakfast, did as he was told.

 

That afternoon, after a business meeting with a couple of men who were interested in selling Alfred a building he had found a suitable place to put a new factory if his father decided to expand the company into Germany, Gilbert found himself outside of the room while Alfred talked to an English colleague whom had arrived in Germany for what seemed to be the sole purpose of annoying Alfred.

He watched men and women go by the office, and he smiled despite the fact that he could hear the man shouting as clear as day inside.

“And who the hell is that man outside, Alfred?! He's the scruffiness German I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot of them!”

“He's my translator, Arthur. The one the company provided was shit.”

“Translator, huh? Maybe I should write to my sister and tell her about your damned translator! It's obvious to me you picked him up off the streets! He's a whore if I ever saw one.”

Gilbert said nothing, glad that no one was walking down the hall right at that moment.

“Alice trusts me.” Alfred said calmly.

“And I don't. You and your sister are too much like your mother!”

There was a long silence, and then Alfred spoke. “Gilbert, please come in here.”

Gilbert came to the door and opened it. “Yes sir?”

Alfred was sitting across from the British man, who had sharp and angry green eyes and thick eyebrows that might have almost been comical if they hadn't been paired with such a nasty scowl.

“Explain our business meeting this morning to my English _associate_.”

Gilbert sat down at the table and swiftly explained the building they had inspected earlier that day, citing the faults that he had seen and forced the men to explain to Alfred when they didn't point them out to the American. He watched the scowl slowly be replaced by another look on the Englishman's face.

Gilbert identified it as begrudging respect, and when Alfred dismissed him, he returned to his place outside the office door.

“My apologies. I seem to have misjudged you.” The Brit eventually said.

“I might have found him on the streets, but I was searching for a decent translator, and he is one.”

“I'm sorry I suspected otherwise. Knowing your sister and her father...”

Gilbert snorted a little at that. How quickly the man shifted the blame away from the parent the siblings shared onto the one they didn't.

But Alfred accepted it with a grace he knew he never would have been able to manage. “I understand your concerns. After all, Alice is your little sister. Knowing how I feel about my sister, I understand.”

A few more pleasantries were exchanged, and then the meeting concluded. Alfred stepped out into the hall, groaning slightly as he rubbed at his forehead. Glancing up at Gilbert, he sighed. “Coffee?”

“Coffee.”

They headed to the nearest restaurant, and soon were sipping at cups of coffee as men and women passed by. Gilbert felt himself shiver slightly as the wind picked up. Autumn was coming to the streets of Berlin, and fast. He would need to decide if he could repair Ludwig's coat enough to last him another year or if he would need a new one entirely.

Alfred suddenly groaned. “I hope he keeps his mouth shut. Bad enough if Alice finds out, but if Francis finds out what Madeline has been up too… I'll never hear the end of it from anyone.”

“Francis?”

“Madeline's husband. He thinks I'm chaperoning her, but I don't think anyone can chaperone Madeline.”

Gilbert nodded as Alfred continued to brood over his coffee. “Should I just assume that Alice is your wife then?”

Alfred bristled a little at that, and then relaxed. “Yeah. Arthur's one of her older brothers. He'd kill me if he knew the half of it.”

Gilbert kept quiet. He was a whore. It wasn't his place to judge his American benefactor or his blatant dishonesty to his brother in law. They finished their coffee. Gilbert didn't know why, but he felt vaguely betrayed by today.

As they started to walk back to the hotel, he couldn't understand why he was so upset. This was just a job.

But then he realized that it wasn't just a job. Or at least, not a normal job. The American was overpaying him on purpose, trying to keep him afloat long after he was gone. He could have been bought for a lot less money than two dollars a day.

However, today had come with a reminder.

Alfred's time here in Berlin was limited, and when the money ran out, Gilbert would find himself right back where he started. He might have a few extra pounds of flesh, but he doubted he could ever attract another man like this in order to keep himself and Ludwig afloat.

_So when are you going to make that boy start earning his keep?_

He shuddered at the words ringing in his head, and Alfred suddenly stopped.

“Alright, we're buying you a new coat.”

Gilbert looked up in surprise. “Huh?”

“Don't think I didn't notice you shivering at the restaurant, and now out here. Come on, it's time for a new coat.” Alfred said, looking around until he spotted a clothing shop for men.

Gilbert didn't have time to object as he was brought inside, and the American paid for a new coat when they found one that fit.

Gilbert was shocked at the warm weight that settled over his shoulders as he slid it on. But he refused to let the American throw away the old coat.

“It's warm enough and big enough to fit Ludwig. He needs another coat anyhow.” Gilbert muttered as they walked down the street, his old coat folded up in his arms.

Alfred sighed, and when they reached the hotel, he stopped. “Go have dinner with your little brother tonight. Come back here at seven. I'll be fine until then.”

Gilbert stopped in surprise, and then the American made a shooing gesture. “Go on. Go give him that old coat.”

Gilbert gave him a quick thanks before running off towards home.

 

Ludwig was surprised to see him home, and even more surprised to see a smile on his older brother's face.

“East?” He said, setting down his schoolbags.

Gilbert emerged from the kitchen with a smile. “Don't worry. I'm still employed. My boss just thought I deserved part of the night off to enjoy dinner with you. So how does supper sound, and then we'll work on homework and tell stories until I have to leave?”

Ludwig smiled, nodding. A few years ago, when Gilbert had just come home from the war, they would tell each other stories every night, trying to forget the empty presence in the house.

Five had once lived here.

Now only two walked these halls.

 

The schoolwork was finished fast. Ludwig was as smart as a whip. Gilbert knew his grades had suffered a little over the last year, but with food in his belly every night, they were going right back up. Before the war, when he had still lived at home, he and his mother had tutored his younger brothers non-stop, and both of them had always passed school exams with flying colors.

In fact, he was starting to teach Ludwig how to speak English.

“Now, repeat after me. A, b, c, d, e, f, g.”

Ludwig parroted back the letters with precision, and they quickly went through the rest of the alphabet until they were singing it like a drinking song their vater might have once sang.

Ludwig burst into laughs when Gilbert held the “Z!” so long that his voice almost faltered a couple of times.

As they finished with their lessons, Ludwig almost leaned up against him as they settled down on the couch. “Eva says hi.”

“How is she doing?”

“Good, but Vash didn't come to pick her up at all the past week, so I've been walking her home after school so she won't get scared.”

Gilbert smiled at that. “That's very nice of you.”

“Bruder?”

“Yes?”

“Since you gave me your old coat, and Eva’s smaller than me, can I give her mine?”

Gilbert nodded. He and Vash Zwingli had briefly known each other from school before the war. Vash had been a sniper on the Eastern front, and returned to find his family in a similar condition to Gilbert's. Both his parent gone from the flu, and his little sister depending on him for everything. Eva was two years older than Ludwig at 14, but she was a sweetheart. Sometimes Gilbert was shocked that she and Vash were even siblings. Eva seemed too nice to be related to the boy he had never even seen crack a smile.

Ludwig stood up, tucking his old coat into his bag before returning to Gilbert's side. “Tell me a story about mom and dad.”

Gilbert told him all the stories he could think of, reflecting on the happy times before the war. When he finally looked at his watch and had to go, he sighed.

“It's time for me to leave, West.”

“Okay.”

He smiled as he stood, rubbing his brother's head affectionately. “Stay good and go to bed on time, alright?”

“Eight o’clock!” Ludwig chimed up, and for a moment, Gilbert didn't see a twelve year old boy. He saw the same little five year old brother he had held before the war had begun. He nodded with a smile on his face.

“Yep. Goodnight, West.”


	3. Chapter 3

Three days later, as they were just finishing up their afternoon walk and enjoying some more coffee, Alfred paused and pointed to a pair of women.

“What are those two women doing?”

Gilbert turned to see two women heading into an establishment with quite a reputation. “Going into a lesbian bar. No men allowed.”

Alfred barely let Gilbert finish his next sip of coffee before asking his next question. “Are there any which allow men?”

Gilbert paused, wondering if he should tell the truth, and then he sighed. “Yeah, including that one, but there's a hefty price to pay for entering those.”

“Money? I have plenty of that.”

“No, not money. Almost all of those bars that allow men are bars were men who enter are whipped or beaten onstage. As a matter of fact, I don't know of any bars that don't require that. That's your price for entering one.”

The American hummed in interest at that, and Gilbert took another sip of his coffee. Autumn was quickly settling in around them now. He was glad for his new coat and the repairs he'd been able to make to his old one for Ludwig.

“I want you to take me to one of these bars.”

Gilbert looked up in confusion. “Huh?”

“I want to go to one of those bars.”

Gilbert stared at him for a long moment in shock. “What?!” He hissed across the table.

“You heard me. I want to go to one of those bars.”

Gilbert felt his emotions bubble to the surface, and this time he let them speak for him.

“You're a spoiled rich brat! Have you ever even been beaten with your father's belt, or did that risk causing too much damage to his precious little son?! Being whipped makes those beatings seem gentle in comparison! You've seen the scars on my back!”

Alfred seemed a little shocked at his outburst, but then his gaze hardened. “I'm aware of how you got those scars, Kraut. I want to go to one of those bars.”

The nickname almost stopped Gilbert dead in his tracks. Alfred had never used that term before, and it hurt, but it also pissed him off. “Go on your own. I won't.”

He finished his coffee and turned to walk away, but Alfred grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”

“I won't go to one of those bars.”

Alfred groaned, and then fished out his wallet. “How much?”

Gilbert turned with a growl. “I said no.”

“Five dollars could buy a lot of fuel for your stove. Or maybe some good beeswax candles to illuminate the desk your brother does his school work on. I'll even pay you upfront.”

Gilbert wanted to keep refusing, but Alfred knew he held Gilbert and Ludwig's lives in his hand. Gilbert knew how powerless he was in this relationship. He took a deep breath, and decided it would be best to give in before he really pissed off his patron.

“Five dollars upfront, and you let me go home and have dinner with my little brother tonight. I'll meet you at the hotel at nine.” He finally said feeling defeated as he said it.

The American chuckled and handed over the five dollars. “Go home then. I'll see you tonight."

Gilbert almost ran from the place, wishing he could wash off the sudden feeling of grime covering his skin.

***

Ludwig was confused when he saw his brother’s coat thrown over the chair when he got home that night. Gilbert hadn't said anything about being home tonight.

Maybe his employer had just given him another night off to come home and eat?

As he walked through the apartment, he saw Gilbert's door was ajar. He opened it up to see what his brother was doing, but Gilbert wasn't in his room. However, the panel they kept their savings hidden under had been removed from the floor, and the small box they kept their money in had been pulled out. If Gil had left this out, he must have just slipped into the water closet.

Ludwig was afraid to approach the box. This box contained the money Gil used to buy him clothes, food, and fuel.

But curiosity got the better of him, and he went over and opened it up.

Several American dollars had been shoved into the box, and on top sat a five dollar bill. Ludwig gasped in shock at the sight, reaching a hand down to touch it. He couldn't believe that this was real.

“Ludwig...”

He turned at the voice to find Gilbert staring at him, and he snapped the box shut. “I'm sorry East! I wasn't going to steal it! I just-”

Gilbert said nothing, and he didn't have any idea how to continue what he wanted to say, so he dropped his gaze, looking at his toes. “I'm sorry.”

Once he had stolen a nickel out of the box to buy some candy. When Gilbert had found out, he'd slapped his brother so hard on both cheeks that it left a mark for over a week. Gilbert had refused to speak to him until it had completely healed. While he hadn't taken anything this time, Gil’s posture let him know he was angry.

Gilbert finally marched past him, shoving the box back into the floor. “Don't open this box again unless there's an emergency, Ludwig.”

“Yes, Gilbert.”

Gilbert sighed as he straightened back up. “You're a good little brother.” He ruffled Ludwig's hair like he always did when he was in a good mood, and when Ludwig looked up he was smiling, but it seemed half hearted.

Ludwig knew this amount of money was not normal. Usually Gilbert got paid a dollar a day. That had to be twice as much. “Where did all this money come from?”

Gilbert's face didn't change, although his body posture did. “I told you, I'm translating for some Americans. Now go do your homework while I cook supper, alright?”

Ludwig nodded, going off to as his brother asked, but he was distracted the whole time.

Gilbert had used the plural form when he said American, So maybe he was just getting paid by two people for translating. That would be weird, but he guessed it might make sense.

Dinner was a quiet affair between the two brothers. Gilbert asked about school, and Ludwig gave vague answers before returning to his food. Gilbert seemed disheartened as each of his attempts failed, and finally they stopped speaking altogether.

They didn't tell stories that night, but Ludwig leaned against his older brother, smelling cigarette smoke on his coat. He smiled slightly at that, curling up close.

He almost didn't notice Gilbert stroking his hair, but when he did, he glanced up in surprise.

Gilbert ran his fingers through his hair in a slow and soothing manner while he stared at the family portrait on the wall.

Ludwig glanced over at it as well.

Mutti and vater were sitting down. Ludwig, being the baby and only about five at the time, sat criss cross in front of them in his Sunday best. Behind mutti stood Derrick, and behind vater, in his brand new military uniform, stood Gilbert. They had went to have the photo taken only a few days before Gilbert had went off to war.

“Bruder?” Ludwig asked softly.

“Yeah?” Gilbert responded.

“What happened to Derrick?”

There was a long silence. Gilbert sighed after a few moments.

“A shell hit our spot in the trench.”

“And you were okay?”

There was a long pause before he responded, as if he was thinking about how he was going to answer. “Yeah. I was delivering a message further down the lines when the shell hit.”

Ludwig nodded, not detecting the dishonest note in his brother's voice, and his brother sighed, returning to stroking his hair.

“I miss him. And mutti. And vater.” Ludwig finally said.

“I miss them too, West.”

They sat there in silence until the clock hit seven thirty. Gilbert sighed as they got up.

Ludwig got ready for bed, and Gilbert nodded. “Promise me to take a bath tomorrow, okay?”

Ludwig nodded back. He'd filled his own bath before. “Okay.”

Gilbert smiled softly as Ludwig went into his bedroom. “Alright. Ich liebe dich, Bruder.”

“Ich liebe dich auch, Bruder.”

A few minutes later he heard the sound of Gilbert moving around, and then the front door opening and closing, the sound of the lock clicking behind him.

Ludwig sighed and tried to sleep.

***

Gilbert and Alfred walked to the bar they had seen earlier, and after a woman inspected them at the door with a grin on her face, they were admitted.

The place was packed full of women and a few men. Gilbert had hoped there would be several tonight so they might not be hauled up onto the stage, but it appeared that the stars were not aligned in his favor.

As Gilbert listened, he heard a fair amount of English mixed in with the German. With the bar being so close to the hotel where Alfred was staying, he should have expected this to be the case. Even if most of the tourists he usually saw at night were male, that didn't mean there weren't just as many wealthy women who had come to Germany to experiment as well.

He tried to remain calm as he heard the crack of a whip. Alfred ordered him a pint of beer as if it would soothe his aching nerves, but it didn't.

There was another crack, and he almost bolted for the exit right then and there. He held himself rigid instead.

Until he saw a young girl of no more than fourteen years walk right by him. In fact, he knew she was just fourteen.

“ _Eva!”_

She whirled at hearing her name, and Gilbert was out of his seat and crossing to her in a matter of moments, trying to ignore the older woman whom she must have entered with. “ _What the hell are you doing here?!_ ”

“ _Paying the bills, the same way you are._ ” She replied, her tiny frame standing tall as she looked at him. She shoved his hand off of hers, but he just grabbed it again.

“ _You're too young, damnit! Go home while you still can! Vash will pull through!_ ”

He heard Alfred's footsteps coming up behind them, and then a curious chuckle. “Madeline? I didn't expect to see you at this establishment.”

Gilbert stiffened when he realized Eva was clinging to the American’s sister. “Hello, Gilbert. I assume you must recognize the young woman I am escorting.”

Gilbert felt his blood run cold as he stepped towards the woman. “If you so much as lay a hand on her-”

Alfred suddenly grabbed his shoulder, but Madeline laughed. “Don't worry. Sterre is here somewhere, so I have no intention of laying a hand on this girl. Eva is here to see her brother.”

Gilbert blinked in surprise at that, and Eva suddenly straightened and stood on her tiptoes as a man was dragged onstage. Gilbert turned and felt his stomach churn at the sight of sweat soaked blond hair and defeated green eyes. This had once been a strong man, a decorated war hero. Now he had been laid low by crushing poverty.

Eva spoke softly to him as she said her next sentence.

“ _A woman pays him to do this, but she sometimes steals the money back out of his room or takes his tips while he sleeps. So I wait until the end of this, and then go back to his room and guard the money for him._ ”

Gilbert remembered Ludwig saying that Vash hadn't picked Eva up from school recently. He guessed Vash probably didn't want anyone to see him in such a state.

If Vash had been forced to sink this low, things must have been very bad indeed. Eva was almost shivering in fear as the whip cracked against his back, keeping Ludwig's old coat tight around her. Yet when he looked up at the two Americans, both seemed to be enjoying the show, especially Madeline.

 _Are all Americans sadists?_ He wondered in disgust, wincing as there was a final crack of the whip against Vash’s back.

“You must plan to be in the show tonight then.” Madeline said as they unbound Vash and Eva rushed away. “Best keep any scars you get hidden from Alice. She might be upset if she learns the other reason for your visit to Berlin.”

“She doesn't need to know, the same way Francis doesn't need to know why you're here. Now scurry along, find your woman and enjoy the night. I plan on doing the same.”

Madeline chuckled as she disappeared into the crowd, and Alfred pulled Gilbert back towards the table where their drinks had been.

They sipped at their drinks for a while as if nothing had happened, until Alfred pointed at a pair of women who were grinning and pointing at the two of them. “Ah, we've been spotted by those handsome women over there. I'd say we're the next performers in the show.”

Gilbert closed his eyes in disgust and tried to remember what he was gaining from this. All the things he could buy with five American dollars.

_Over a month of food once he's gone. Coal and beeswax candles. We might even be able to afford jam and sugar again._

When the women finally came for them, Alfred was all smiles and jokes as they were hauled onstage, even when they shackled their wrists together. Gilbert felt the shirt slide off of him, and heard an experimental crack from the whip.

He just prayed Ludwig wouldn't see any of the marks.

***

Back in the hotel room after their little “performance”, Alfred watched Gilbert sleep. The sun was just beginning to creep over the horizon, lighting the city a pale grey. He traced his hand over the welts on Gilbert's back.

It had hurt like hell to have the whip back at his own back, and Madeline had shaken her head when she applied some ointment Sterre had given her to the marks, but it had been worth it. Gilbert hadn't made a single noise during the whipping, but when the women had finished, he had been as delicate as a porcelain doll. Alfred had carried him offstage with cheers erupting from the female audience.

His bedmate made a noise of pain at the touch, and Alfred pulled his hand back. He kept forgetting that even without skipping any meals during the past few days, the German was still weak from months of mere survival.

He leaned down and kissed Gilbert, whose eyes slowly opened and stared at him. But something seemed off about those ruby red irises.

“Why?” He asked, and Alfred watched something pass over those eyes. Something that made him suddenly ashamed for pushing the German to this state.

Gilbert closed his eyes, and his breathing grew more unsteady. Alfred pressed a hand to his brow.

He was roasting.

“Gilbert, you're burning up!”

“It's nothing…” Gilbert muttered, trying to pull away from Alfred.

“A fever is nothing?! You could spend a week in the hospital. In fact, I should take you there right now.”

Suddenly Gilbert was shaking, his eyes snapping open. “No! I won't! I won't go again! I have to protect Ludwig!”

He suddenly began to cry, and Alfred, already confused, stared at the man in shock.

Slowly, Gilbert began to speak, slipping between German and English, but always returning to English.

“I had two younger brothers once. Ludwig and Derrick. Derrick was old enough to join the Army in 1917. Lud was the baby, after all…”

“Derrick tried so hard! But he made mistakes all the time, and kept getting beaten for them! One time I said that I did it. Everyone knew it was a lie, but they let me take the whipping anyways.”

“I got an infection… They sent me to the hospital… Came back to find out the unit was hit by shells… Derrick and all the others… Buried alive… All my fault that… that Derrick was gone…”

Alfred pulled the man back into his arms, and Gilbert sobbed.

“I let my brother die!” He cried out, repeating the phrase over and over while the American tried to soothe him. Alfred felt the tears sinking into his shirt and slowly soaking his chest, but he didn't stop their steady flow.

Finally, as Gilbert fell back into a fitful sleep, Alfred realized he shouldn't have brought Gilbert to that bar.

And when afternoon came and Gilbert was still asleep and feverish, Alfred rushed to his sister's room, slamming on the door until she answered.

Madeline didn't look pleased to see him. “What?”

“You said Sterre was the daughter of a doctor. I need her to check on Gilbert.”

Madeline sighed. “Now?”

“Yes, now!”


	4. Chapter 4

It had been three days since Gilbert had been home. He hadn't even stopped by for breakfast. Ludwig was starting to get very worried.

He was also getting very hungry.

He'd finished the bread this morning along with the cheese, and had been resisting the temptation to go to grab money out of the box ever since. He would have spent it wisely now. He knew where Gilbert got groceries. The shopkeeper gave Gilbert a discount because they knew him. Maybe they would do the same for him…

As he glanced at the clock, he decided he would have to do it as only an hour remained before his usual bedtime. He left a note for Gilbert in case he came back, explaining exactly what he was going to do and promising to spend the money wisely. He went and fetched a dollar from the box, tucking it deep into his pockets on Gilbert's old coat, hiding it from sight.

Stepping out onto the street, he headed down to the grocery. He glanced around for his brother as he neared it, but he didn't see him. He prayed he would find him, but soon enough he was standing outside the door of the grocery, and he hadn't seen him. Sighing, he stepped inside.

The grocer looked up at him as Ludwig glanced around the store, hoping he might find his brother grabbing something off a shelf. “Hey, kid! No money, no shopping. Beat it.”

“I'm shopping. My brother always comes here, but he hasn't been home in a few days.” He said, coming up to the counter. Gilbert clearly wasn't here.

The man had stopped, and then a friendly smile broke across his face. “You're Gilbert's little brother, right?”

Ludwig nodded. He noticed there wasn't anyone else in the shop. Not unusual, he guessed. After all, most people were in home and eating dinner by now.

The man smiled slightly. “He usually buys the same things. I'll put them together for you.”

Ludwig looked around the store as the man packaged up the items. He stared in shock at the candy. So many types, yet he knew he couldn't buy a single one. He would buy what Gilbert always bought and nothing more, and when he returned home, he would put the change back in the box and wait for Gilbert to return.

He knew Gilbert wouldn't be mad if all the money was accounted for. After all, he wanted Ludwig to eat regularly when it was possible, and if he wasn't going to make it home, Ludwig had to do the shopping on his own.

The man called out from the counter. “Alright, I've finished wrapping up your order.”

Ludwig came forward, and the man told him the price. He estimated that was the same price Gilbert usually paid and slid the dollar across the counter.

However, the man suddenly grabbed his wrist. Ludwig was confused.

“If you want to pay at that price, however, there's a second payment.”

Ludwig stared at the man in confusion. “Please let go of me. I gave you the money.”

“That's not all you’re going to give me, boy.” He said, grabbing Ludwig's arm tighter and pulling him towards the door that led to the area behind the counter.

“Let go!” Ludwig shouted, yanking back, and the man snorted.

“God, he hasn't told you anything, has he?! Well, this will be fun then!”

The door to the shop slammed open behind them, and Ludwig heard an angry shout.

“LET GO OF MY LITTLE BROTHER NOW!”

Next thing he knew, his brother had punched the man across the counter, and a second man Ludwig didn't recognize was pulling him back. Ludwig shook in fright, frozen in place like a rabbit.

“He came here on his own! I was just showing him how the world works!” The shopkeeper shouted.

“IF YOU EVER TRY TO TOUCH HIM AGAIN, I WILL SHOOT YOU WHERE YOU STAND!”

“ _EXCUSE ME BUT WOULD YOU ALL SHUT UP?!_ ” The second man shouted in English. Ludwig didn't know what he had said, and clearly neither did the shopkeeper, but they all fell silent. “ _Gilbert, what the hell is going on?_ ”

“ _This is the man I come to for my groceries. He was going to force Ludwig to do what I do._ ”

The second man stiffened, and then leaned over the counter, grabbing the shopkeeper by the collar of his shirt. Ludwig rushed to his brother's side, and his brother gave him a swift and tight embrace.

“Thank God I got here in time. I was so worried, Lud.”

Ludwig just shivered, still scared.

The second man spoke again. “ _If you ever touch either of these men again, I will personally come and find you, wherever I am on the globe, and I will kill you. I will cut out your heart and feed it to the pigs and use your blood and bones to fertilize my lawn, got it?_ ”

Whatever the man was saying, Ludwig knew it was a threat. The shopkeeper shivered and shoved the package of food across the counter and returned the dollar bill.

“You can have the food for free, sir.” He said, and Gilbert said something in English. The second man straightened up and took the package. He turned and gazed at Ludwig, who shivered in his brother's arms.

“ _So this is Ludwig?”  
_

_“Yeah. He's scared as hell. We need to get him home and fast.”_

A nod from the man, and then he looked over and saw a candy display. He yanked out a bar of chocolate and then glared at the shopkeeper, as if daring him to challenge him. “ _We'll be taking this as well._ ”

“Don't expect any payment for that either.” Gilbert said, and the next thing Ludwig knew, they were out on the side of the street, and he was shivering as they walked back to the apartment.

“Gilbert… what happened?”

“Nothing to discuss here on the street, Bruder. Let's go home.”

Halfway there, the second man handed him the candy bar, and he glanced up at Gilbert, who just nodded.

He tore open the wrapper and broke off a small piece of the chocolate, setting it in his mouth and trying not to think about what had just happened. He was scared and frightened, and felt like he had seen something he wasn't supposed to see. His brother was holding his hand tightly, and he focused on that instead of the man walking alongside them.

Finally, they reached the apartment, and Gilbert bent his knees slightly to bring his face to the same level as Ludwig's.

“Look, I'm going to tell you this once. What you did today was stupid, but I know why you did it. We needed food, and I thank you for promising to be responsible when it comes to spending money. Now, here's what I need you to promise me. If this ever happens again, don't go to that man's shop. Go down the road further, until you reach Mrs. Werner’s shop. It's going to be a little more expensive, but not much, and it will be much safer. It's okay to do that. I won't yell at you or hit you as long as you spend the money wisely, okay?"

Ludwig nodded, reaching up to wipe at his face. He would not cry. He was twelve. “Yeah. I'll do that from now on. I promise.”

Gilbert smiled and gave him a short peck on the forehead. “Good. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The second man came back into their main room and spoke. Gilbert stood up.

“ _There's not a lot of groceries. I'll go get more. My treat.”_

_“Alfred, we can't accept that. You shouldn't even be here. You were just supposed to get me home.”_

_“Your brother has been through hell tonight. He needs you. I'll pick up a change of clothes at the hotel and come back with more food. Even if we don't share a bed tonight, I'm responsible for getting him in this mess. I'll still pay you for tonight.”_

Gilbert sighed. “ _Alright. Just promise me you won't threaten anymore shopkeepers.”_

Ludwig watched the second man leave, and then turned back towards his brother in confusion.

Gilbert motioned for him to follow him. “Wanna sit in the kitchen while I cook dinner? I know you haven't ate anything yet, and we need to talk.”

 

Gilbert cut the potatoes slowly and Ludwig spoke.

“Who's the man with you?”

“His name is Alfred. I've been translating for him.”

“So he's the American you've been working for the past week?”

“Yeah.”

Gilbert tossed the potatoes in the pan where pieces of wurst were already frying. He had added an onion to the mix. They sat in silence for a bit as he cooked the potatoes.

“Why have you been gone for three days?”

Gilbert sighed, not looking at his brother as he added salt and just the smallest bit of pepper to the dish. “I was running a fever and so sick I couldn't move. Alfred's sister had a friend who was caring for me during that time. Alfred was supposed to bring me home tonight, but when we found that note you left, we ran back out to get you.”

Gilbert could still feel the heat in his cheeks. He had been healthy enough that he deemed himself ‘needing to go home’. Sterre had been reluctant, but when he insisted he needed to for his brother, she had relented. He had a feeling she understood what he was going through.

And he was glad she had let him come home. If they had been just a few minutes later than they had been...

He finished the food and set a plate down in front of his brother. “Eat while I answer questions. We'll ignore table manners tonight if you want ask questions while chewing your food.”

A nod, and Ludwig ate several bites before his next question came.

“Why did that man grab my arm? He said something about a second payment.”

Gilbert sighed, setting down his own fork. “I do something for him so I can buy our food cheaper. He expected you to do the same thing. Doubt either of us can ever go back to his shop, though, so I guess we won't have to worry about that in the future.”

Gilbert hoped that Ludwig might drop the subject there, but the kid was as smart as the whip that had bit him a few days earlier. “The thing you do… it's not good, is it?”

Gilbert sighed again. It was getting to be a habit to preface every single response with a sigh. “No.”

Ludwig looked at him, a sickening reality starting to spread across his face. “You aren't translating to tourists for a living, are you?”

“No. Sometimes I do translating for a little extra money, but most of our income is coming from the other thing I do.”

Ludwig didn't say anything, but he didn't pick his fork back up. Gilbert waited for him to reach the damning conclusion.

“You're a… a courtesan.” Ludwig concluded. Gilbert almost laughed at the phrase.

“Nope, courtesans get nicer clothes and lounge around palaces eating food before they go do the king’s bidding.”

Ludwig turned red, and Gilbert sighed. “I know you don't want to hear it, but it's whoring that put this food on the table. It's what's kept you fed and dry and clothed for the past six months. Americans are a good source of income for me, and I-”

“Did you even try translating?!” Ludwig suddenly shouted, standing halfway up out of his chair. Gilbert glanced up, and saw his brother's face close to outrage.

Gilbert eyed the chair with a clear expectation, and Ludwig sat back down. “Sorry, East.”

“For your information, I did. I exhausted almost every possible option before I chose to do what I'm doing. Translating… translating was one of them.”

They were silent for a while.

"Alfred… is he one of your…”

“Yeah. He pays me double to translate for him as well.”

Ludwig looked back at his meal and slowly ate the rest of it. Gilbert sighed as he finished his.

Ludwig went to bed without telling him, although it wasn't hard to figure out. But Gilbert knew he wouldn't be sleeping for a long while yet.

Eventually Alfred came back. “Is the kid asleep?”

“Nope. Just pretending to be. He… he knows what I do now.”

Alfred sighed as he sat down next to him on the couch. “I'm sorry.”

“Well, he was going to find out eventually. Better now than later, and better from me than a classmate.”

Alfred sighed, and then Gilbert glanced at the groceries. He nearly stopped in shock.

Eggs, coffee, tea, honey, sugar and flour, and a jar of raspberry jam.

“Alfred! Holy hell, I can't pay you back for these.”

“I said it was my treat.”

Gilbert looked up at him, and Alfred sighed.

“I'm really sorry, Gilbert. I shouldn't have forced you to go there.”

Gilbert sighed. “You didn't know.”

Alfred leaned back and saw the old family photo hanging on the opposite wall. “The kid about your age and blond like Ludwig…”

“Derrick. The brother we lost. Mother and father died in the influenza outbreak. Ludwig was half starved when I got home. Those were almost the worst weeks of the last three years. Tried everything I could to get the damn kid healthy and keep him alive.”

Alfred didn't say anything. He didn't need to.

“Survived on the family savings and whatever I could scrape together from various jobs until about six months ago. I hadn't eaten in two weeks. Lud was barely getting a whole meal a day. I stumbled into that shop one evening, begging for scraps or trash. Instead, the man made me an offer I couldn't refuse.”

Alfred leaned back, listening.

“Sex for three days of food for me and the boy. I came back that evening right as he closed up the shop to collect the food and pay. Stretched the food he gave us to last six days, but then I had to go back. Eventually, word got around to the women and the men on the streets, and they told me the pay was better if I went seeking work on my own. But I kept going there, and once I had some money, I negotiated. If I had money, I'd pay and give him oral for a lower cost on the food. If I was out of money, we'd revert to the old deal.”

Alfred shook his head. “My God. Berlin is that bad?”

Gilbert looked at him with an even gaze. “You've been here long enough to know that, Alfred. At least in Berlin I have this option. Elsewhere… me and the boy would both be dead by now.”

Alfred pulled out a cigar, and Gilbert pulled out a cigarette.

They smoked in silence, filling the room with smoke and sweat. Gilbert could feel his fever attempting to return, and went to get himself a glass of water.

Eventually, he hauled Alfred to his bedroom.

They simply slept next to each other that night, tired.

***

Ludwig came back from school the next afternoon. Alfred was out somewhere. Gilbert had been told to stay home and rest.

“ _I'll pay you a damn dollar just to stay put. The boy doesn't need you dropping dead on him_.”

They didn't speak for a long while. Gilbert sighed.

“Eva wasn't at school today.” Ludwig suddenly said.

Gilbert glanced up in surprise. “Huh?”

“She didn't come to school. I'm worried.”

Gilbert paused. “Tomorrow is Saturday. We'll pop over in the morning if you want and check on her and Vash.”

A nod, and then silence until the next question came, as it was almost guaranteed too.

“Is Alfred coming back tonight?”

“Yes.”

Ludwig didn't respond to that.

“But not until it's past time for you to be in bed.” Gilbert said, as if that would make things easier.

Ludwig wandered off, and Gilbert sighed.

He had wanted to die when he returned from the war. He had lost his friends. He had lost his livelihood. He had lost Elizaveta and the future he had dreamed of. He had lost his family.

He only had Ludwig.

He had clung to life for Ludwig.

And now he was losing him too.

 

Alfred arrived right as Ludwig was almost finished getting into bed. Gilbert groaned as the boy stopped flat, staring at the American with contempt in his eyes.

_“Bed. Now.”  
_

_“No.”  
_

_“Ludwig!”_ Gilbert snapped, pointing to the bedroom door.

Ludwig shot one last glare at Alfred and then stomped into his bedroom.

Alfred sighed. “I expect this would have been better if it carried on at the hotel.”

“Probably, but you told me to stay put, so I did as asked.” Gilbert muttered. He hung up Alfred's coat and sighed. “Come on. Bedroom is this way.”

They had barely closed the door behind them when they heard Ludwig throw his open, and come storming down the hall. Gilbert groaned and crossed his arms, facing the door.

It had just started to open when he snapped out a command. _“Bed now or I throw you over my knee like you're five years old again.”_

_“Gilbert-”_

_“Bed!”_

The sound of feet in retreat. Gilbert shook his head and turned back towards Alfred. “Can we try to be quiet tonight?”

A nod, and then he stretched out on the bed.

A few minutes later, he knew Ludwig had undoubtedly thrown the pillow over his head, attempting to block out the reality of the noise that was coming from down the hall.

In fact, Ludwig was currently closing his eyes, wishing that this night would simply disappear and he would wake up to find that the last two days had just been a terrible nightmare.

  
***

  
Alfred pulled out of him, and Gilbert groaned softly. His whole body still ached from the whipping and illness. “You should have been quieter. I don't want Ludwig coming back.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I think we both know you're not.” Gilbert said, running his fingers over his arms in a random design.

They lay there in silence for a while. Gilbert knew his body hadn't fully recovered from his illness, and now he was sweating and covered in his and Alfred's semen. But if this was a payment for all the food and money Alfred was giving him, he was willing to give it. He noticed his dresser had a drawer open.

_Odd. Could have sworn that was closed earlier. What do I keep in that drawer?_

“Gilbert?”

Gil glanced over at Alfred as he disrupted his train of thought. “What?”

“Come to America with me.”

Gilbert rolled over and stared. “What?!”

“If you come to America, you'll be able to get more money. You said you had experience as a mechanic. My family could get you a job with the Ford company. They pay five dollars a day.”

“You're insane! I can't leave Germany!” Gilbert said, sitting up and staring at the American as though he were crazy.”

“Why not? The economy is stagnant! When I'm gone, my money will only last for so long, and then you and Ludwig will be right back where you started!”

Gilbert almost bristled as he said the next few words. “We’ll survive. We always have.”

“Sure you will! After all, that's why last night someone shot that brother of the little girl we saw at the bar.”

Gilbert took a moment to process that sentence. “Someone shot Vash?”

“Was that his name?”

Gilbert whirled to face Alfred, shouting the next few words. “Yes, you stupid brat! He was the only family she had left, the same way Ludwig only has me! He only worked in that horrible place because it was the only way he could feed his sister! And you never even bothered to ask his name!”

Alfred was trying to backpedal. Gilbert could tell. He stood up, hoping to put a distance between him and his benefactor while he nursed his wounds, but after attempting to take a few steps, he collapsed. He felt like someone had shoved a hot iron between his legs. Alfred did not believe in being gentle.

“Gilbert!” He felt a hand reach out and grab his arm, trying to steady him.

“Get off me!” He snarled.

There was the sound of the door to the bedroom being thrown open, and Gilbert saw Ludwig standing there in a panic. Gilbert realized in shock that he was holding Gilbert's own pistol, which he must have snatched out of the drawer earlier today! And he held it with a tentative aim towards the American.

Gilbert stood, not caring that he was completely naked and in pain. “ _Ludwig, drop the pistol. Now!_ ” He snarled, using his own body to attempt and block Ludwig’s view of Alfred.

Alfred stood behind him, staring at the boy. He was also completely naked. As if Ludwig needed any more confirmation about what his brother was doing.

“ _He's going to hurt you._ ” Ludwig finally managed to say.

“ _Not as much as I am going to hurt you if you don't hand me that pistol right now!_ ”

Finally, he lowered it. Gilbert grabbed a blanket off the bed and stormed over towards his brother. He yanked the pistol from his grip and emptied every single bullet from it before tossing both weapon and ammunition into a corner. Then he grabbed his brother's face and backhanded him once on each cheek.

“ _Be glad I'm feeling kindly! Now go to your room and stay there until morning, or so help me God, you will be tied into your bed!_ ”

Ludwig ran, and Gilbert fell to his knees, panting in exhaustion. Alfred came up behind him, and he groaned.

“I'll leave.”

Gilbert glanced up at him in fear, realizing he was about to lose the last three days of pay the American had to offer him.

“Please don't go. He is just a stupid boy.”

Alfred shook his head, and swiftly yanked another ten dollars out of his wallet. Dropping it onto the floor, he spoke.

“If you decide to go to America, my train leaves in three days to take me to my ship. I'll pay passage for you and the boy. If you decide to stay… I wish you the best of luck.”

Alfred was dressed and out the door a few minutes later.

Gilbert, meanwhile, had curled up into a ball on the floor of his bedroom and was crying.


	5. Chapter 5

Ludwig didn't look at his brother the next morning when he stumbled into the kitchen. He had seen far too much last night.

He stayed silent as Gilbert began to eat his breakfast, afraid to speak. Gilbert glanced at all the food they had now covering the kitchen counter.

Alfred had paid for all of this.

He pulled out a notebook and began to write something down.

“Gilbert-”

“Quiet.”

He went silent again, and Gilbert pulled the piece of paper off of the notebook, tucking it into his own pocket. “Go to Eva and Vash’s house and if- if Vash isn't there, bring Eva back here. I need to talk to her.”

Ludwig nodded, and then did as asked.

 

Eva stared sadly at Gilbert after he had sent Ludwig out of the room. She was in his old jacket, shivering.

“Is Vash…” He finally asked, but got no farther. Tears began to drip down her face as she nodded.

“I paid… for him to be buried… with mutti and vati…” She whispered. “But now I have nothing.”

Gilbert said nothing, and then reached over and set a hand on her arm. “Eva… if I could get you and Ludwig out of the country, would you leave? Would you start a new life in America? Treat my brother as your brother? Teach him English the way I know Vash was teaching you?”

She nodded again, and Gilbert sighed. “Please stay here for the next few days then. I hope you don't mind sleeping on the floor.”

***

Alfred was just sitting down for breakfast when the sound of the chair across from him being moved echoed across the pavement. He looked up to find Gilbert sitting there, staring at him.

“Gilbert-”

“Please, let me speak.”

Alfred paused, and then nodded. Gilbert took a deep breath.

“I can't leave Germany. I was born here, and I plan on dying here. But I know two young people who deserve a chance for a better life, and I want them to have it. If you were sincere in your offer to take Ludwig and me to America, then please take Ludwig and Eva instead.”

There was a long stretch of silence, and then Alfred spoke.

“I came here for business, but also because Alice and I realized that… that one of us… _that I_ … was infertile. I was upset, so I used this trip as an opportunity to disappear and drink my sorrows away. To have an affair. I thought it would make me happy.”

“Has it?” Gilbert said, although he obviously knew the answer.

Alfred shook his head.

Gilbert nodded, and then spoke of his own troubles. “My parents, as I told you, died in the flu. Dad had been in failing health, but mom had been so strong. Derrick was dead from the war. I'd had a girlfriend, but she got married while I was off fighting. Some Austrian. I never heard from her again. The only reason I kept going was Ludwig. I couldn't leave him on his own.”

Alfred nodded, and they allowed the silence to fill in the gaps again. Finally, he spoke.

“I'll take them both to America. My wife would happily call them her own.”

“Thank you.” Gilbert said, standing to leave, but a hand caught his wrist.

“Gilbert, you and the boy don't have to be separated. I'm willing to pay for you as well. My wife and I will take Eva, and you can start a new life with Ludwig.”

They stared at each other for a long while, and then Gilbert shook his head. “No. If I couldn't make you happy here, then continuing this in America wouldn't be good for either of us.”

It was a silent rebuttal. It hurt, but Alfred was willing to accept it. For him, this had been a chance to express himself, to try and gain something in his life. And all he had actually gained was a horrible secret he would have to keep from his wife and family for the rest of his life. And for Gilbert…

This had just been another job.

He watched the albino walk away, and then a soft hand was set on his shoulder.

Madeline looked at him sadly, but knowingly. He had seen two young girls enter her room last night, one of whom was almost identical to Sterre.

“We are cut from the same cloth, brother. We just can't stop ourselves from getting hurt, can we?”

He shook his head, and then saw Sterre across the yard, speaking to the two girls, the oldest barely ten. “What are their names?”

“Belle and Emily. They're her daughters.”

“Will she be coming with us too?”

Madeline sighed. “That is… doubtful.”

They sat in silence, and then Madeline took his hand. Alfred knew he was infertile, the same way his sister was. Apparently it was a trait that… ran in the family. They had come here looking to forget their troubles, and would instead be taking home permanent reminders.

“I love you, Alfred.”

“I love you too, Madeline.”

***

Gilbert woke up early that morning. He stood and dressed, and taking a dollar bill, headed out past the sleeping figure of Eva.

He was exhausted. Ludwig had not taken the announcement of their departure for America well, and had finally fallen into a fitful sleep around two in the morning.

He stopped outside a little cafe and placed his order. This had once been his favorite place to take Elizaveta to for a date. Close enough to home for a chaperone, but far enough away that they could enjoy life without his two brothers teasing him relentlessly.

He took the bag they offered him gently, paying for the soft warm pastries inside, and then headed back to the apartment.

Eva was awake, and had already gotten dressed in clean clothes. “Eva, could you set the kettle on the stove?”

She nodded, and Gilbert set the bag on the table, heading into Ludwig's bedroom.

Ludwig was awake and dressed, looking tired and upset. Gilbert sighed. “Hey. I got breakfast.”

“Not hungry.” He muttered.

“Not hungry? If there was anything I was at your age, it was always hungry!”

Ludwig didn't laugh, and Gilbert slipped over towards him, wrapping an arm around his little brother. “I know you're upset. But this is for the best. I love you, Ludwig.”

Ludwig didn't say anything, and Gilbert heard the kettle whistling. He went into the kitchen.

Eva brought him three mugs, and he poured the water in over the tea, offering her the jar of honey and a spoon.

“How much can I put in?”

Gilbert smiled softly. “As much as you like.”

Her eyes grew wide, but after a few reassurances that he wouldn't mind it, she quickly filled her tea with heaping spoonfuls of honey. He pulled out the pastry he had gotten.

“A jam tart?!” Eva said in surprise, staring at the warm pastry.

“It's your last day here. I thought that this might be a good way to end your time here.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Gilbert.”

It was more than thanks for the food. She was an orphan now. The only one left in her family. He had taken her in for the past two days, and now he was sending her to the land of opportunity. And he was giving her a family again.

There was the sound of movement, and Ludwig came in, rubbing at his face. Gilbert set the tea in front of him.

Ludwig slowly spooned in honey, using heaping amount he hadn't since before the war. Gilbert had always enjoyed indulging his brother’s sweet tooth.

When he saw the tart he blinked in surprise.

“Mom always used to get those before one of us left for a big trip.” Gilbert said with a smile.

“She said it was so if we were parting for the last time, our last memories would be of a happy and loving meal…”

Gilbert was surprised Ludwig remembered that phrase. He had last heard it the morning he had left for the front lines of the war.

Although he supposed it might have been said when Derrick departed as well.

Eva looked up, and then reached over and took Ludwig's hand. Gilbert smiled and reached across the table to take her other hand, and then offered his hand to Ludwig, who cautiously took it.

“We are a family. Small, broken, but a family. I know that this is hard, but even though you are going to be going to America without me and living with a new family, you will always have this family. This moment. This meal.”

As their hands fell away from each other, Gilbert watched over both his young siblings.

They were a small and fragmented family, about to get even smaller.

But he knew that this was the right decision.

 

Alfred waited at the station platform. Madeline and the two girls had already boarded the train. Now he was waiting for his two charges.

Soon enough, he saw the albino appear. The man made his way towards them, and nodded. “Thank you for doing this, Alfred.” Gilbert said. Alfred nodded back. Then Gilbert knelt, speaking to Eva.

“ _Eva, please take this._ ” He said, offering her out a small pouch. She took it, surprised at the weight, and Gilbert smiled softly. “ _Don't open it until you're onboard your ship to America. And only use what's inside for emergencies or for secret treats you share with Ludwig._ ”

Eva smiled softly. “ _Thank you, Gilbert. I…_ ” She fell silent, tears streaming down her face. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, giving her a hug as her older brother would have only a few days ago.

“ _Just remember how much he loved you and would have wanted you to be safe. He'd be happy for you to start a new life._ ”

She hugged him back just as tightly, whispering a final thank you, and then walked over towards Alfred. They began to speak softly, though Eva's English was formal and stiff.

Gilbert finally turned towards Ludwig, who was on the verge of tears.

“ _I don't want to go unless you come with us!_ ” He stated, stomping his foot down hard on the platform and looking more upset by the moment. “ _What if he tries to grab me?!_ ”

“ _He won't hurt you, Ludwig. Look, as I told you, this is your only chance to leave Germany. To have a better life than what I have! You've seen what I do, Ludwig. Is that the future you want?_ ”

Ludwig was crying now. “ _I don't want a future without you! Without you I won't have any family left._ ”

Gilbert sighed, pulling his brother close. “ _West, look me in the eyes._ ”

His brother did as he was asked, and Gilbert smiled as he gazed at those soft blue orbs.

“ _Eva is your family now. She's your sister, and she'll help take care of you. I trust Alfred. He won't hurt either of you. He has a wife, and they can't have children of their own. If you go with them, you'll have a whole family again. A mother and father, a sister, aunts and uncles, cousins…”  
_

_“But I won't have you.”_

Gilbert reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out the Iron Cross pendant. It had been passed down their father's side of the family for years, and he had worn it when he went out to war. Now he placed it around Ludwig’s neck.

“ _This is our family legacy, Ludwig. Our father wore this, I wore this, and now you will wear it. This is a piece of me and Germany. I wore it in battle and carried it with me every day. Whenever you miss me or Germany, just hold on tight to this and know I never left your side. No matter what, I will always be here with you._ ”

Ludwig was silent, and then the two embraced tightly, clinging to each other like survivors of a shipwreck.

“ _Ich liebe dich, Gilbert._ ” Ludwig whispered.

Gilbert kissed his brother on the forehead. “ _Ich liebe dich auch, Ludwig._ ” He whispered back.

The whistle for the train blew, and after one last embrace, Ludwig half ran to Alfred. Alfred lifted his bags and guided them towards the train. Alfred entered first, followed by Eva. Ludwig looked back one last time.

Gilbert smiled and nodded.

He stepped onto the train and followed Alfred wherever he was going.

Gilbert stood on the platform and watched the train pull away. He stood there until it finally disappeared into the distance, taking his little brother to a new and better life.

In the silence, he turned and walked back home.

He sighed as he entered the building where he had spent almost all his life.

_How fitting that I should die in the place I was born._

He reached his apartment and gathered up all the food Alfred had bought them, taking it to a neighbor. She was a young widow with three children. When she saw him, she gasped and hugged him tightly. He then hugged each of her children and gave the three year old girl a peck on the cheek.

He gave his new winter coat to an elderly man in the building. The man was nicknamed Old Fritz, like the famous Prussian leader. When Gilbert had been a child, he had been regaled with tales from Old Fritz of the the Franco-Prussian War.

Old Fritz thanked him, and Gilbert smiled softly.

With his tasks done, he returned to his own apartment. He looked around in every room, but stopped when he reached his brother's bedroom.

He walked over and sat down on the mattress, reaching out and setting a hand on the pillow. He remembered nursing the boy back to health when he had returned home from the war. He remembered when there had been two more beds in the room, one for each of the three boys. Little Ludwig laughing, Derrick being ridiculous, and him chucking pillows at the both of them. He sighed, a faint smile coming to his face.

He glanced at the empty spot on the wall. He had sent all of his photos with Ludwig except for one. He pulled it out as he headed to his own room.

The two oldest boys stood over a crib, smiling down at the newborn baby.

He entered his room. The panel in the floor had been put in pace, but there was nothing to hide any longer. His dresser was empty. He had sold what he didn't need.

All he needed now was the clothes on his back and his pistol.

He grabbed the pistol and one of the bullets from three nights ago. He slid the bullet into the chamber and cocked the weapon. He pressed it to his head with one hand, sitting down on the bed where he and all his brother had been born.

He gazed at the photo and smiled, brushing his hand over the spot where the Iron Cross had once hung.

_I'll always be with you, my dearest Ludwig. Always._

 

There was a loud crack, and then something fell.

The neighbor woman stopped in shock as she realized what had happened. She looked over at her three little children, who were celebrating the gifts they had just received from their kind neighbor.

She went down and informed the owner of the building. This wasn't the first time this had happened.

All that was left after the men came to collect the body was a single photo, and she picked it up off the floor.

Blood had ran down the image, but she knew it by heart from the pride she herself had felt when her oldest son and daughter stood around their baby sister’s cradle.

She knelt and cried.

***

Eva had opened the little pouch on the third day of travel and stared in shock. Ludwig and she had been puzzled over the money in there.

But as they counted it, Alfred realized exactly what it was.

He stepped outside, and Madeline pulled him into her compartment, sending the two girls to be with the other two children so her younger brother could bawl in peace.

_We are cut from the same cloth indeed._ She thought, knowing that it likely wouldn't be long before Sterre was gone the same way Gilbert undoubtedly was.

***

When they arrived on the shores of America, Alfred seemed subdued. Ludwig had been trying to pick up English as fast as he could from Eva.

Alfred smiled at the two of them softly, taking their hands. “Come on. We'll go find my wife.”

He saw Madeline and Francis reunite, and Francis was soon kneeling next to the two children. He looked up at Madeline with a soft smile and nodded, and soon had embraced both of the girls.

Alfred glanced around until he saw a head of furiously tamed blond hair with bright green eyes. She hadn't seen him yet in the crowd.

He rushed towards her with the two children behind him, feeling a sudden rush of joy. Before she even knew it, he had swept her into his arms.

“Alfred!” She shrieked in surprise, but he just smiled.

“Oh hello, my love!” He shouted, pulling her into a deep embrace.

She laughed and hugged him back once he had set her down on her own two feet once more. “I missed you, Alfred. And that smile of yours! What made you find it again?”

He pointed at the two children behind him, and she stopped for a moment as she gazed at them. Finally, she spoke.

“Alfred… what did you do?”

“I made a friend in Berlin. He asked me to take his siblings out of Germany. And given… my condition…”

She gave him a soft smile, tightening her grip on his hand to show she still loved him. Alfred called them over, and both came over to begin introductions.

“Eva and Ludwig, this is my wife, Alice. Alice, these are Eva and Ludwig. Eva is fairly fluent in English, and Ludwig is learning fast. Eva is fourteen, and Ludwig is twelve…” Alfred said, but Alice silenced him with a look.

She stepped towards the children, looking at each of them, and then smiled, pulling them into her arms. Ludwig looked confused, but then returned the hug, and Eva hugged Alice back immediately.

She cried as she spoke the next sentence. “Welcome home, my children. Welcome home.”

And Alfred smiled once more.

***

_1931, ten years later._

Ludwig was very busy. He felt lucky that his father and grandfather had been so wealthy. Business was down, but his job and finances were secure.

He was twenty two years old, and spoke fluent English with an ease that some people born speaking it didn't have. Being his father's only son, he had studied at college for four years, and now he had been put in charge of drafting a new company policy in an attempt to return some of the profits back to the workers. Dad believed that investing in the workers might help return some of the company profits back to them.

He finished the second draft and set it down before walking out of his office and heading downstairs. His sister and he had arranged to have lunch together earlier this week. Eva and her husband Alistair had been so busy the past few months, moving with their two children, and because of this he had barely seen her in the past three months.

As he entered the lobby, he saw his sister and an unfamiliar young woman next to her. The woman had a light tan to her skin, and dark reddish brown curls which she had swept up into a beautiful hairstyle. She was probably only seventeen or eighteen.

_Did dad hire a new receptionist?_ He wondered. He wouldn't have been surprised if his adopted father had done just that. Alfred loved having beautiful young women in the office, although he never did anything more than admire them. Mom was too wary to let him even think he wasn't being watched by her every single moment of the day around all those other women.

As he approached, Eva looked up. “Oh, hello Ludwig! Just in time. This is my dear friend, Felicia Vargas. I hope you don't mind, but she will be joining us for lunch today.”

Ludwig shook his head, “I don't mind at all.” However, he now knew exactly what Eva was doing. It was the same thing she had done constantly for the last three years, determined to make sure her brother met every single available woman in her circle of friends, which had grown considerably since she and Alistair had gotten married. Apparently the Scottish businessman was quite the socialite.

The restaurant they had chosen was a pleasant place that served Italian food, normally not the stopping point of those as wealthy as the Jones family, but Ludwig and Eva despised French food. And besides, when Felicia excitedly ordered something on the menu in perfect Italian, it was obvious she herself had some Italian heritage.

Once they had been served their meals, Ludwig quickly found himself drawn into conversation with the young woman. She seemed shy and a little vapid at first, but he quickly discovered a sharp and intelligent mind under that disguise. As the conversation progressed, Eva smiled at her apparent success. Ludwig could have sworn she muttered something about winning a bet against Emily and Belle, their dearest cousins.

After lunch was over, the three walked back to the company offices, but before Ludwig returned to work, he turned to Felicia and spoke.

“Miss Vargas, I found your company to be a delight. Would you perhaps like to meet again and continue our discussion?”

She nodded, smiling as she walked away with Eva. “I would like that very much, Mr. Jones.”

***

Two years later, Ludwig held his own son, smiling at the blue eyes and soft red brown hair. Felicia was just as excited as he was, both holding their son in their arms.

Ludwig was currently holding him, and he smiled. “Hello, Gilbert Alfred Beilschmidt Jones.”

The baby yawned, and Felicia giggled. “Do you think your name is too long, Gilly?”

Ludwig shook his head at that, but then the boy began to cry again, and he swiftly passed him back to his mother. He reached up and touched the chain to his Iron Cross.

His real father had worn this, as had his brother and himself. Now he was gazing at the next generation. One day, this Gilbert would also wear the Iron Cross.

He had spent years being angry. Angry at Alfred, angry at Gilbert, angry at God. But as he stood in this room with his newborn son, he thought that maybe he could understand.

He touched the Iron Cross under his shirt.

_You never left me, brother. You gave both me and Eva a chance. Now our children have a chance to live in a world of peace, and maybe one day, prosperity_.

He turned around and smiled at his wife. He would never tell her the real story about how he had met his adopted father. He would never tell her the stories of how many times his brother had sacrificed everything, including his own dignity and humanity to save his life so many times. He would never tell her why he looked distant when he ate a raspberry jam tart or drank tea with lots of honey, remembering his last breakfast in Berlin with his family.

Instead, he would keep on living this new life his brother had given him in America.

He knew that was what Gilbert would have wanted him to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting a more cheerful Christmas fic later today, so enjoy the season of giving, my friends, enjoy.


End file.
